


Siblings and Other Side Effects of Families

by WIWJ



Series: Of Arms [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WIWJ/pseuds/WIWJ
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Series: Of Arms [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678636
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	1. 2

**15 Years into the Reign of King Jon (Part One)**

He's ticking off the list of things he needs to do in his head, ignoring the voice in it that is urgently flashing warnings at him that his time is already up. It's moving too fast, faster than the other times. He shakes it off and heads towards the chamber door.

"Jaime." Her voice is strained and he winces hard before turning slowly back to look at her. She's hunched over the chair, her arms shaking with the effort to hold herself up right.

"No." He says firmly as she takes a long staggered breath, reaching her long arm to the bedpost and making her way to the bed. Her upper body pitches forward a bit more.

"You can't tell me no." Her voice is high and indignant and he would have laughed if she hadn't moaned just a bit at the end. His shoulders slump and he goes to her, pressing his right arm against her back and taking her hand in his.

"I just did." He holds her steady as she moves herself onto the mattress, her fingernails marking his upper arm with her free hand.

"Sansa says wildling women leave their houses and squat alone in a field. Would that be more to your liking?" She accuses, her teeth coming to rest on her lower lip. He presses a kiss to her damp forehead.

"I am not asking you to squat alone in a fucking field. I'm asking you to wait for the damn maester." His hand pulls back from hers and flutters across her tight abdomen, stroking it until the rigidity recedes.

"It's not up to _me_." She's incredulous now.

"Isn't it?" He sounds generally curious and she snorts.

"We've done this three other times you know." She reminds him.

"And each damn time you managed to wait for the Maester."

"Well he better hurry." Jamie looks up at the quickening of her breath and his face morphs into a look of irritation. "I'm so sorry this is inconveniencing you!" She shouts before crying out. "Jaime!"

"Alright.." He soothes as her hand gripped at his lame limb with enough fury to rip the rest of it off. "It's alright."

He presses her back towards the pillows, unties her dressing gown and let it slip open. She cries again, her back arching up towards him as he cupped his hand carefully in slow curves around her abdomen until she dropped back again. It's properly started now, and he goes through the motions he's seen seven of the eight times his children had arrived. He peels his hand away from her, and wets a washcloth before wiping between her legs, bracing one against his shoulder and the other against his right elbow.

"Anything?" She whispers wearily with just a hint of hope in her voice.

"Nothing yet." He breaths easily, more hopeful she may make it til the maester arrived. She lets out a frustrated huff and he runs his fingers over the top of her thigh.

"It's so fast this time." Her chest rises and falls quickly. "I shouldn't complain."

"Remember all the hours with Tom?" He muses.

"I mostly remember all the screaming." Brienne's eyes flutter back for a second and he watches her swallow. She'd screamed until she was hoarse and Jaime thought his heart was going to break. He smooths his hand across her body, feeling the contraction start again.

"Yes I was quite loud wasn't I?" He teases and she laughs before it turns choppy and fearful, one of her hands grasping out for his while the other clutched the back of her knee. Jaime's experienced eye watches for the first sliver of the baby's head.

"I see him." His steady voice calls above her groan.

"Oh thank Gods." She breaths before seizing again, her foot planting against his shoulder, he leaned in firmly against her to keep from being pushed from the bed. "Jaime."

"I'm here." He reminds her, like she's somehow not noticed him; her hand clawing at his arm, his hand pressing back her right thigh.

"Last one." She shakes her head fiercely. "I mean it Jaime, I do! This time I-. Gods!" She pushes hard and he steadies them.

"More. More. More." He coaches rapidly. "Good that was Good. A little bit longer." He moves his hand to cup her face. "Just a little bit longer and he's here."

"Seven Hell's it bloody hurts." She pants as he draws a clean cloth across her face.

"You never have to do it again if you don't want to." He promises.

"I won't." She answers, her breath picking up again.

"You say that every time." He smiles.

"And I mean it every time." Her words grind out, her body shaking with effort. Her hand grasping the front of his shirt before he offers her his grip.

"So much faster." He shook his head. "Almost Darling. I can almost see his whole head now."

Her breath rattled as she calmed and he realizes he's made peace with the fact that the maester won't arrive in time.

Brienne curses and cries for him at the same time, and he responds softly. Encouragingly coaxing her through the hardest part.

All at once he remembers the baths of Harrenhal, the bear pit and River Run. He sees the stained glass of Winterfell's sept and feels the smack of her palm against his cheek in Flea Bottom. He hears her voice calling him out of the darkness in the West Watch and sees the fear in her eyes when Arya blurts out that she's pregnant with Tom before she'd even had a inkling. He sees her white and swaying in the sun four years ago, just before they last time they did this very dance when Jon was born.

He was so caught up in it all that he's surprised when he sees the emerging head of his eighth born child.

"Woah." He sputters at her, quickly. "Ease up. Ease up I need my hand." She releases her death grip but there is no stopping her now and he has to rush his arms forward to cradle the tiny head when the rest of the baby slides free. He pushes it into the crook of his arm and rubs at it with his left hand until it screams and she laughs, her full throaty laugh that makes him feel lighter. "There. There."

He's pulling blankets and towels and studying the new little person between his wife's legs when he stills, a small gasp catching in his throat.

"What?" His wife yelps, reaching wearily for him. "What's wrong?"

"It's a girl." He chokes, with all the disbelief that would have come from him saying 'its a dragon.'

"A what?!" She pinches her eyebrows tight when he turns to look at her.

"A girl." A look of giddiness has taken him over.

"We don't make girls." She told him as if he had forgotten a basic truth of the universe.

He lifted the baby up to show her and her eyes widened.

"Apparently we have." He gave her a wide eyed look before her hands came forward and pulled the baby to her chest, studying the little creature closely as it wailed.

"A girl." She shakes her head. Her lips quiver as Jaime moved to her side.

"Catelyn." He breathes in her ear. "That's still what you want?" She turns her wild blue eyes to his and smiles. "Catelyn Lannister of Casterly Rock and Evenfall Hall."

"A girl." She whispers airily, turning to face him again. He ran his hand over the squalling baby's head and kissed her shoulder, holding his green eyes on his wife's amazed face. "You've always wanted a girl. You've never said it but I knew each time." He pushed back a lock of sweat drenched hair and kissed her brow. "And now I've gone and given you a girl."

She knew the few moments that he'd been Myrcella's father had made him long for another girl. Long for that feeling of holding his sweet daughter in his arms again. She watched him run his fingers over her sweet face now.

"Cat is a fitting name for a lion." He breaths as the door swings open and the winded Maester rushed in.

"I tried to tell her to wait for your Ulithi but she doesn't listen to me." Jamie said softly.

…..

A cheer goes up in the dining hall when Tyrion announces the first female Lannister child of Evenfall Hall.

Sansa blinks back tears at her name.

"It's a good thing you never used it." He wrinkles his brow. "They were sure they were destined for all boys and we had four chances to steal it."

"We've a Lyanna, a Lynara, a Theon and a Rickon." His wife reminds him wistfully. "That's enough Starks for me. Jeyne and Joanna are just fine."

He looks up at his children now, the three youngest girls all cluster around a table, as strong and lady like as their mother. Lyanna is talking with some exuberance to a tiny waif of a girl he doesn't recognize, but she obviously does. His lips flip up as his beautiful daughter suddenly looks tongue tied as the other child touches her arm. Well well, what do we have here? He thinks to himself as his gaze slides past them to his son's. Rickon's dwarfed body has started slowly falling behind his younger brother's as Theon's growth starts towards manhood. It makes him think of his brother, safe in their childhood home on the coast of the Sunset Sea. He misses him.

"I saved Catelyn for Brienne." She's studying him.

"Does it make you want another baby?" He raises his eyebrows at her honestly. "The news from the south?"

"No." She says firmly and he smiles. "We have our hands full with the six of them. "

"Humm." He slides his eyes to her before taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers. "Just checking. You have a look."

"It does however make me think of traveling to Casterly Rock." She tests, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. Tyrion let their hands drop back toward the table in shock before turning back towards her.

"We just visited six months ago." He reminds her.

"Yes. I'm aware." She sniffs. "And I was thinking for slightly more than a visit. I was thinking of Wintering there."

"You hate the south."

"Lyanna loves it. She's homesick for it." She grinned at her Lord Husband. "As are you. You miss your brother and I miss mine too. And my sister. We could stay for the baby's presentation."

Tyrion counts the months in his head before looking back at his bride dubiously. 

"There must always be a Stark-." He begins drolly tipping his head back and looking at her from the tops of his eyeballs.

"In Winterfell, yes I'm aware. Despite his protests that he is _something else_ , my brother is also still Brandon Stark of Winterfell. He can Warden for a while. He'll have Ser Sandor here with him, and I can call on Tormund if I feel the need to." She shoots him a conspiratorial look. "What could possibly go wrong?"

He laughs out loud at her now, a joyous sound that makes her grin as he shakes his head and clamors to his feet.

"I will send my brother a Raven and let him know Winter is coming." Sansa grins as he kisses her cheek before heading off to find the maester.

"'What could possibly go wrong?' She says." He mutters to himself.

"Where are you going father?" Rickon calls, rushing after him.

"South apparently." He grumbles, reaching his arm around his son's shoulders as Sansa adds another mental stone to the wall of love they've built together.

…...


	2. Chapter 2

**15 Years into the Reign of King Jon (Part Two)**

**The shores of Casterly Rock**

Jaime realizes he's been spotted when his oldest son raises his hand to shade his eyes. He waves absently as his boy pulls his skiff further onto the shore line and jogged towards him.

"Da?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I've been coming out here since before you were born." Jaime scoffs, insulted at the idea. "Since before your mother was born."

"Was that the last time?" He asks cheekily, his eyebrows raising with a smirk that reminds Jaime of his sister. He smiles at him, but it never reaches his eyes. "Da, seriously." His voice is all Brienne now and he lets the feel of his wife wash over him.

"I wanted to talk to you, without your brothers."

"About Cersei?" Ty swallows. Jaime's puzzled face snapped up to his. "You had the look."

"It's not just about her." He sighs, rubbing his face. "In fact-." He extends his palm. "It's not about her at all, it's about you. I want to talk to you about you."

"Okay." He sits beside him on the large boulders. "What about me do you want to tell me?"

" _Ask you_." He sighs. "You're 15, I've come to ask you."

"Okay." He stops, tilting his head and watching like Brienne does.

"Your mother wants you to come to King's Landing with her, Catelyn and Lyanna in the spring." Jaime sighs.

"King's Landing." He shakes his blonde head. "Da, I've been to King's Landing a dozen springs."

"To court." He interjects and Ty's eyes jump to his. "To squire, like your cousin." He takes a deep breath. "I told her I thought you were still too young-."

"You were knighted by the time you were my age." Ty snorts.

"That was during war. This is peace." He looks cautiously at his son. "I could have used a few more summers with a skiff." Ty's eyes look out at the sea. "Is this something you want?"

Ty looks back at him and he can't help but think how much more he looks like Tommen every day. He's longer, lankier shaped more like Jaime, where Tommen was shaped like Tywin. His boy has sun kissed cheeks, but the are round and full like his dead sibling. Jaime shakes it away. 

"This is the part that's about Cersei." Ty says softly, pulling his knee against his chest and resting his head on it. "About how you feel guilty for worrying I'll turn into her?"

"No." His father tells him sternly.

"That I'll taste the power of the Red Keep up close and it will awaken my inner Lannister evil and I'll be flooded with self righteousness that I, Tyrick Lannister, son of Cersei and Jamie Lannister is the true heir to to the Iron Throne."

"Ty." Jaime rubbed at his face.

"Do you have nightmares about me lugging the thing up from the basement of the Keep?" He snickers. "Do you think I'll murder King Jon in his sleep? The man who slaughtered his queen so I could live?" For as often as Ty reminds him of Brienne and Cersei, he currently reminds him of a certain golden haired, two handed, young knight.

"I'm glad this is something you can joke about." He huffs. "I absolutely do not think that."

"But you fear it." Ty whispers softly. "I can't say that I never have." Jaime looks at his boy. "I've studied them. Tywin, Cersei and Joffrey. I know what they were. I've also read about my kind grandmother Joanna and of Myrcella and Tommen who were good and just. Just as my father is. Maybe you've heard of him? Ser Jamie Lannister? Warden protector of King's Landing?"

"That's just some silly title your aunt Sansa cooked up to make me sound fancy enough to be forever linked to House Stark."

"Or to honor the fact that you saved the people there." Ty reminds him. "Twice."

"This is about you." Jamie reminds him.

"No. If it were about me Mum would have asked over the apple tarts at breakfast." He sighs. "This is about your fear."

"You are so much like your mother." His father swallows, shaking his head.

"I am." He laid his hand on Jaime's arm. "And she is my mother. Ser Brienne of Tarth, Lord Commander of the Kings Gaurd, Lady of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock. And there is no one more just and kind then her. It may not be her blood in my veins, but it's her words in my heart and her lessons in my head." The boy looked down. "Hers and yours."

Jaime sucks in a long slow breath before pressing his lips to the young man's temple.

"Should I tell your mother-?"

"Tell her I'll think about it." He whispers. "I don't want to decide here. I want to go home."

Jaime couldn't help but smile, his son was the most purely Lannister person alive and all he wanted was Tarth.

"Your wildling cousins will arrive soon, we'll present your sister to the Westerlands stay with them here for a while before heading to King's Landing to present your sister to the King, and then home to Tarth present her to your grandfather." He smirks before leaning down to meet his son's eyes. "Ty, it's your decision."

"I know." He sighs. "Would it bother you? My squiring? Knighthood -eventually- would help me gain clout in the East. It would help my standings in Tarth. Maybe I could get assigned to someone in the East? Maybe even with one of men of Storm's End. Then I'm practically home."

"You have no need to worry about your standings in Tarth, your grandfather has sung those praises since the day your mother showed up with you in her arms. And Lord Gendry would be lucky to have you." He set his palm on his son's cheek. "It wouldn't bother me if you were a squire, or a knight or a smithy. As long as you were happy. I'll just miss you."

They sit in silence for a while before Ty turns to him.

"You really aren't going back to King's Landing with the girls?" Jaime blinked for a minute before turning back to the sea.

"I hate it there." He told his oldest child.

"You've lived there most of your life." Ty snorts.

"Yes. And I hate it."

"But you love my mother." His son reminds him. "I can't see you being happy a six hour trip from her.

"And what'll I do? Jaime smirks. "The wash? Some needle point?"

"This is about you feeling like a useless house husband?" Ty yelps, shaking his head. "This from Jaime Lannister the _banner man for gender equality_ in the Sibling Kingdoms? Westeros first man to knight a woman?" Jaime mocks horror at his son. "She's given you a brand new baby to raise up for her. A girl like you always wanted."

The old knight hears his wife's tearful voice.

_I've gone and given you a girl._

"Now your going to go hide out on Tarth? Moping around with grandfather while she protects the city, King Jon, Lyanna and Cat?"

Jaime looked out into the Sunset Sea and let his son's words flutter across his mind.

* * *

**The East facing receiving balcony of Casterly Rock**

It's a week later when winter comes to Casterly Rock. And so does Arya Stark. Jaime sits in his dining hall, next to his wife looking like he might just climb out of the nearest window. He remembers these events from when he was a child and how wonderful and exciting they were, but now it's a to do list of Western Lords, Ladies and heirs and he finds the task of remembering their names much harder than he had 30 years ago, when he wasn't nearly 57.

The benefit of the boys being born in court was you needn't present them to any one but the King, and it was pretty handy when all you had to do was walk him across the courtyard. There were far less reaching hands.

Brienne won't let anyone touch her babe anyhow. Gilly had told her it was bad luck, and Brienne's fearful heart still worried more by the two sisters who'd died in cradle, had made it law. So far- Jaime figured, looking back at the tight ranks of his healthy sons, it had served them plenty well.

He watched with quite a bit of pride as the Lannister children formed the line.

He watches his brother's children with a deep tenderness. Tyrion doesn't look concerned, to the naked eye, but Jaime sees his tight grasp on the arm Sansa has wrapped around his.

"Lyanna Lannister of Winterfell and Casterly Rock" With her blonde hair braided and looped off her shoulders giving no sign of the fierce young swordswoman who had bested her old uncle the night before.

"Rickon Lannister of Winterfell and Casterly Rock" Who's small stature does nothing to slump his broad shoulders and piercing green eyes.

"Joanna Lannister of Winterfell and Casterly Rock" Red tresses standing arm and arm with her identical twin sister.

"Lynara Lannister of Winterfell and Casterly Rock." Her sly smile letting Jaime know which girl was the evil twin. There was always one, just a little more clever than the other.

"Theon Lannister of Winterfell and Casterly Rock." The little boy almost shouts his title and Jaime smiled as he nudged his tiny sister.

"Jeyne." She murmurs softly, as Rickon drops his head and whispers in her ear. "Of Winterfell… and castle-y rocks."

The Lords and Lady's roar with laughter and the tiny girl startles. He tells himself that it's because she's cute and not because they're making fun of her dwarfism, but Jaime resists the urge to grab up his little niece and hold her close.

Instead he squares his shoulders and watches as his boys present themselves.

"Tyrick Lannister of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock." Jaime's eyes slid across the crowd, as if he dares anyone out there to think otherwise, but just as no one really had for the last 15 years no one challenges that mistruth tonight. Brienne squeezes his hand and he lets out the breath he's forgotten he was holding.

"Tomsyl Lannister of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock." His sweet shy son blushes like his mother and it's Jaime's turn to squeeze her hand.

"Renly Lannister of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock." If Tom is shy, Ren is made for this moment. His cat green eyes shine at the crowd, daring them to poke the little lion.

"Jon Lannister of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock." His youngest son rushes out the words impatiently, and Jaime figures his vest will be off and on the floor before the applauds for his baby sister have receded.

He turns to his wife then, her deep blue gown making her look all the Lady of Casterly Rock he can handle at this moment and she gives him their daughter and drops her hand to Widow Wail's pommel before sliding it to Oathkeeper's.

"Catelyn Lannister." He swallows, willing himself not to cry as he looks at her, his Love's sapphire eyes shining back at him in her small face. "Of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock." She squeals as he holds her up, her body jerking with the sound of thunderous applause and he pulls her tight to his body the way he wishes Tyrion had done with Jeyne. "Now Sweetling," He whispers. "It's alright. The next two times won't be as horrid." He kisses her blonde head. "Father has you. I have you."

* * *

"Was it terribly frightening?" Sansa asks her, as they sprawl out on her and Jaime's bed.

"Frightening?" Brienne sounds puzzled. "Having a baby in a war tent was frightening. This was just-." She shrugs. "Having a baby."

"But you had a Maester then, and a midwife!" Sansa exclaims. "You were on your own with this one." She points accusingly at Brienne's baby, asleep in the nearby cradle.

"Not at all. I had Jaime." She reminds them.

"And that was a comfort?" Arya yelps from the chair, her glass hanging from her fingertips.

"Yes it's a comfort. It's not like he doesn't know what to do." She shrugs. "Not like he hasn't helped me through it three other times. I'd rather not have the Maester than not have Jaime."

"Tyrion would die." Sansa snickers. "He'd just die."

"Really?" Brienne looks at her like that was the strangest thing she's ever heard before adding more wine to the Snow Queen's glass.

"It's difficult enough for him to be in the room. I usually don't send for him until the end and even then he likes to pace. Every once and while he'll wipe my brow and pat my hand."

"He wouldn't climb on a cot with you and help you push like Jaime did in the war tent?" Arya snorts. Sansa looks from her to Brienne like this is an insanity.

"He would not." She laughs. "He'd probably offer to pay someone to."

Arya laughs at that.

"I'm fairly certain it caused Jaime physical pain to miss it the night that Ty was born." Arya mumbles. "And even then I think he could only do it by going to you." Brienne smiles as Arya looks at her sister. "The two of them together in any sort of battle something rather beautiful."

"Gods. Arya that was almost a romantic sentiment." Sansa's voice is pure wonder.

"My love and I make Arya long for trip to Storm's End." Came Jaime's soft voice from the door.

"Do you mind, Ser?" Sansa yelps, her glass leaning enough to sprinkle a few drops of Jaime's favorite Dornish wine on the rug.

"Seeing as this is my bed chamber? No." He smiles, pulling a box from a shelf. "I've just come to retrieve something. Then you all can go back to discussing my midwifery." He presses his lips tenderly against his wife's mouth. "Couldn't you have served them the stuff from The Reach?"

"Darling she's the Queen of the North." Brienne reminds him, wiping her wine stained lip marks from his face.

"I suppose." He sighs, his fingers tracing Catelyn's head as he leaves the room.

Arya is glaring at her.

"He's not wrong." Brienne shrugs, Sansa giggles. "The last time we visited Storm's End with Jon, I scarcely even saw you."

"Arya!" Her sister sounds so much like her childhood self Arya snorts with laughter.

"What?!" She asks. "I'm a grown woman!"

* * *

"Did you find it?" Tyrion asks him as he returns to the library with the box.

"I did." He grins. "I also learned I'm better with childbirth that you."

"Oh Gods I'd hope so." He rolled his eyes.

"Since when are you so squeamish?" His brother laughed.

"Our mother died in childbirth you know." He reminds Jaime quietly. His brother stops fussing with the box and turns to look at him. "You've never thought about it?"

"With Joffrey." He admits. "And at about hour 30 with Tom. She did actually almost die with Jon, but that wasn't about the baby at all." Jaime looks up at Tyrion. "But it was a fleeting fear. I didn't consume me. My wife is strong, stronger than I am. We've cheated death too many times for me give it too much thought." He looks back at the box. "Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"Seems like it fits the conversation quite perfectly actually." His little brother nods at the box and Jaime pulls off the lid. "It was in the closet?"

"Brienne was having the room made up for Arya. It hadn't been touched in.. probably twenty years. It was father's office once remember?"

"Barely." Jaime pulled out the letters and handed them to Tyrion before pulling the charcoal drawings and setting them on the table.

"This one.." He whispers "Is the one I was telling you about."

He holds up the sketch of their mother to him and Tyrion's jaw goes slack.

"Holy hell." He mutters taking it in his hand. The drawing is of his daughter, or at least that's what anyone would think. It's Lyanna's full mouth and crafted jaw, and her thoughtful eyes. "Is this how you remember her?" Jaime gives him a quick nod.

"Older, maybe a little fuller in the face. More like Cersei when her hair was short and it made her face seem rounder. But Lyanna is most definitely in her image." Jaime watches Tyrion look at the drawing before he rises and walks to the side of the room and pulls two frames. He pulls the sheet off one and there is their mother, full color looking back at them, the fine oils in the painting making her come to life. Again there is an undeniable resemblance to Lyanna. He slides the last one out and it's her and the twins, Jaime's face pressed against his mothers thigh, Cersei's hand grasping at his right wrist hard, even in the painting, her eyes narrowed at him. Joanna looks down, and Tyrion wonders if he is projecting the little wariness he thinks he sees in his mothers expression as she looks at his sister. "I'll have them packed for you and shipped to Winterfell."

"You should keep the second." He says automatically.

"No." Jaime shakes his head. "I won't be hanging pictures of our dear sister in my home. Either of them, any of them."

"She always told the story of how you were holding her foot when you were born, like somehow you were afraid for her to leave you behind, but I see her there, her claws in you.." He squints. "Maybe you were trying to protect the world from her.."

"Brienne delighted in pointing out to me that this is the hand that's been gone for decades." He taps at the painting. "And that I lost it when I found her."

"Well that's damn symbolic." Tyrion snorts, his fingers moving through the letters. Stopping and glancing at each of them.

"Right?" He sniffs. "I should have Pod sing us a song about it."

"Jaime?" His older brother turns to him slowly. "Have you looked at these?"

"I'm not really as interested in trailing back through old childhood memories as you are Tyrion."

"It's from Lady Allyana of Tarth. To mother." Jaime's eyes wrinkle. "About her newborn daughter and mother's letter than she may be a potential bride for her son Jaime."

* * *

"Oh Gods." Brienne's fingers moved across the page and Jaime watched her read it with a sly grin. She flipped it around and looked at the symbol embossed on the front. "This is real, this is from my mother. _'I can see it too, My Lady, my beautiful babe with hair of sun straw and your sweet boy with a golden mane.'_ Our mothers were trying to marry us off?"

"Apparently so."

"Maybe this was just a highborn custom? Maybe there were lots of letters like this?" She shook her head.

"Maybe, but this is the only one my mother kept in a box until she died." He pointed out, pressing a kiss to her face.

"They wanted to give you to Lysa Tully? Or A Martell or something."

"My father." He shrugs as the baby let out a little cry and he went to retrieve her, undoing the tie of her shift and guiding their daughter to her teat. Jaime settled behind her, supporting the baby with his stunted arm. "The social climber."

"Oh my poor Darling, you'd have hated me." She laughs, reaching up and letting her fingers touch his chin.

"I would have grown to love you just as Tyrion and Sansa have grown to love each other." He kissed her neck.

"You'd have hated me." She repeats.

"I used to imagine how things would have been different, if my mother had lived, but I never thought this different."

"I did that too." She shook her head. "They'd have brought you some giant beast of toddler and told you she was your future bride and you and Cersei would have had a damn good laugh."

"Stop it." He grimaces.

"That would have been how we met."

"I like the way we met better." He tells her. "Although it does seem now that perhaps our mothers had a hand in it now doesn't it?"

"Do you think she'd have been disappointed?"

"Yours or mine?" His wife ran her free hand along his forearm and adjusted the baby's blanket.

" _Yours_." She says like he's an idiot.

"In me or you?" He teases.

"Jaime.." She sniffs. "I'm asking."

"It's been a long time since I've seen insecure Brienne. I haven't missed her." His wife huffs at him.

"I'd have wanted your mother to like me." She whispers.

"She'd have loved you." He groans. "You've given me a house full of boys. Tall beautiful Gods. And this.." He strokes across Cat's little arm and she wraps her grip around his finger. "This little bit." HIs voice breaks a little and he bites his lip. "She's just the little extra, the sweet cream butter on top of the bread."

He presses his lips to the baby's hand and then to his wife's mouth.

"I love you." He says like its the most obvious thing that has ever been. "How could anyone not love you?"


End file.
